


Bad Days

by Gumnut



Series: Gentle Rain [4]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-06 13:44:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18389600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gumnut/pseuds/Gumnut
Summary: Em Harris has bad days.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Bad Days  
> Gentle Rain Series  
> Author: Gumnut  
> 8 Apr 2019  
> Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS  
> Rating: Teen  
> Summary: Em Harris has bad days.  
> Word count: 2064  
> Spoilers & warnings: Scott/Em  
> Timeline: Sometime after ‘Gentle Rain”  
> Author’s note: This is to celebrate Nutty injuring her back again yesterday. We all have bad days and Em more so than some. This is also an example of the fact that things are not always as rosy as they seem. I guess we’d all like a Tracy to come to our rescue sometime :D  
> Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

Em Harris has bad days.

There are days that start shitty and will likely end shitty. Days where she is reminded, that yes, she is paraplegic and look, now a double amputee to polish it all off. Days when the nerve pain gets her down. Days where the bare necessities of survival get ahead of her and existence just sucks.

At home, she would call in sick - her practise has back up plans for this exact reason - they’re doctors, they know the deal. She would hole up at home and just get through the day. If it got really bad, she had the visiting nurse to call. There were ways and strategies to get through the suffering and out the other side. Ways to rebuild her core, reinforce her shields and get herself back out there, usually with a smile to face the world.

It was necessary. It happened. She managed it.

But today she wasn’t at home. Today she was on a sparsely populated island in the middle of the southern Pacific.

She had woken to find Scott gone. This was nothing new. The man was a rescue operative, for crying out loud. IR had callouts around the clock. But the moment she gained consciousness, she knew it was going to be one of those days and just for once she granted herself enough selfishness to wish he was there to hold her and simply tell her it was going to be all right.

But she was Em Bloody Harris and she had been doing this alone for a long time. Get your ass out of bed and get the necessaries done, because not doing the necessaries of paraplegic existence really weren’t worth the neglect.

So she got out of bed and to the bathroom and did what she had to do. If there was a moment or two that found her cheek leaning against the coolness of the tiled wall, so be it. She had to get through this, so she would do it any way she could.

By the time she got through her routine, she was exhausted.

The irony of neuropathic pain was that while it damn hurt, it was all fake signals. There was nothing wrong with her beyond what was always wrong with her. It was just a seriously damaged nervous system doing its best to do its job when it couldn’t anymore. Pain was the result and days like today, it could get bad enough to break through her reserves and take her down.

So Doctor Harris downed some painkillers and prescribed herself a day in bed. Curling up under the covers, she closed her eyes and willed the day away.

Unfortunately she forgot to tell the Tracy family.

Sometime after no lunch there was a discreet knock on her door.

She blinked herself awake. She had finally managed some sleep, but her brain hadn’t let her fully escape, providing warped dreams where she was falling and Scott was desperately trying to catch her, but never quite fast enough. Her whole head had spun and it was only the sound of knuckles on wood that had stopped her plunge.

“Em?” Virgil’s voice. “Are you okay?”

Her head was full of cotton wool. The medication had the lovely side effect of dulling her thought processes along with her nerve pathways.

“Em?”

She opened her mouth to reply, but her body chose that exact moment to spasm and instead she found herself curled up working through a wave of pain. There may have been a whimper.

She didn’t hear the click of the door’s lock being overridden, but the voice exclaiming her name and the gentle touch to her forehead was enough to shock her brain into functioning at a bare minimum.

Virgil was crouched beside her bed, worry in every line of his face. “Em, talk to me.”

“Virgil, w-what are you doing in here?”

“Grandma was worried. It is unlike you to miss a meal, much less two. What’s going on?”

She closed her eyes and rubbed her face with a hand. “I’m fine. Juss a bad day.”

She didn’t want to look at him. Em Harris didn’t like vulnerable. Her medical status put her in that position far more often than she preferred and she put up with it, but this was new. This was her boyfriend’s brother, her boyfriend’s family, and to top it all off, Virgil was also one of her patients.

Vulnerability was not an option.

“I’m fine. I just need to get throu-“ And yes, her nervous system was the master of betrayal as it paired up the previous spasm with a lovely demonstration of exactly how bad, bad could get.

She grit her teeth and worked through the pain. Goddamnit, why did it have to hurt so much. The fog in her head wasn’t strong enough. She was due for another dose. She screwed up her face and tears leaked out of her eyes. A moment and she was gasping. Okay, okay, that one sucked. Where was her damned medication?

She opened her eyes to find a hologram of her own body floating above her.

What the hell?

“Em, what medication have you taken?”

“Wha?”

“I need to know what medication you have taken for your neuropathic pain.”

She pointed towards the bedside table and the bottle of pills. Red flannel danced in the shadows.

“I want you in the infirmary.”

“Virgil, I’m fine. I’ve got this handled.” She was so proud of actually finding her voice, she almost missed what he said next.

“Doctor Harris, the patient is in chronic pain, dehydrated and, no doubt, suffering from a low blood sugar level due to self neglect. Our infirmary has equipment that can help. I want you there and I want you there now.”

“I’m the doctor.” It was a stupid thing to say, but her reserves were shot and the thought of being paraded through the house on a stretcher sent chills up what was left of her spine. He would see her. See her injuries. See the real Em Harris. The broken mess under the facade. “No.”

“Em.” He sighed and she suddenly realised she wasn’t talking to Virgil, Scott’s brother. This was emergency responder and medic, Virgil Tracy. The man knew what he was doing. “Trust me.” The voice so many desperate people had heard in the most dire of circumstances.

As with many a rescuee, it worked. “Okay.” Her voice was so small, it was pathetic. So bloody embarrassing. She closed her eyes and hid her face behind her hands.

“C’mon, let’s get you out of that bed.” She couldn’t see him at that exact moment, but she knew he was offering her his arms.

So bloody embarrassing.

She pushed her self up, but, of course, today was a bad day so her body protested.

Loudly.

He caught her as she fumbled, scooping her up with a ridiculous lack of effort and held her close as she rode through it. She ended up gasping, her head on his shoulder, and she discovered he used the same aftershave her father had.

And then she was in tears.

Oh god. Em Bloody Harris bawling her eyes out all over his red flannel shirt. There were comforting noises, his chest rumbling with his soft voice. There was movement. She clenched her eyes shut, desperate to keep the world at bay.

And then he was laying her down on soft, cool sheets. There were beeps of medical machinery. The gentle touch of his warm hands on the skin of her back.

And the pain disappeared.

Oh god, the relief had her sagging into the bed. All her breath rushed out in a whimpered sigh.

Warm fingers brushed her hair out of her eyes. She looked up to find worried brown looking down at her. “Better?”

“Better.”

A small smile of relief flashed across his face, but then he was fiddling with an IV bag, hanging it far above. Exhaustion washed over her.

She didn’t feel the prick in her arm as sleep finally took her.

-o-o-o-

The next time she opened her eyes she encountered a pair of worried blue.

“Em?”

She swallowed. “Scott.” He was sitting beside her bed. She was in the infirmary. How?

Her brain finally decided to start functioning properly and memories lined up in all their embarrassing glory.

Shit.

“Uh, uh, uh.” His hand came down gently on her shoulder, holding her in place as she made to push herself up off the mattress. “You are staying here.”

“But I’m fine.”

A single arched eyebrow. “Tell me what happened.”

“Nothing happened. It was just a bad day.”

“That has you curled up in bed in pain.”

“It happens. I deal with it.”

His lips thinned. “Em, you’re not alone anymore.”

She opened her mouth to scoff at his words, but then their meaning sunk in and her mind jack-knifed.

Her hand was wrapped in one of his and she frowned at it. His other hand reached up and caressed her cheek. “We are not unfamiliar with the effects of injury in this family, Em. We help each other. Yes, there are bad days. We all have bad days. But those days pass better with help.” A ghost of a smile. “This family specialises in help.” He swallowed. “The thought of you hurting alone...I am so glad my brother is a stubborn ass who will chase up any member of this family hiding a damned illness. Please, Em, we’re here. There is no shame in asking for help.”

Her heart was in her throat. It had never occurred to her. She had not even thought about it. All she had seen was embarrassment and inconvenience. His fingers were so warm on her cheek. She closed her eyes and revelled in his touch.

No longer alone.

Oh god, it had been so long.

She bit her lip and was astonished to find herself holding back a sob.

Bloody hell, not again! What the hell was wrong with her today?!

His fingers brushed away a tear. His shadow fell across her eyelids and his lips touched her forehead. Whispered. “Think about it.” A smile against her skin. “I love you, Em Harris, and with me comes a large, bumbling family. You will never be alone again.”

His words had her eyes open and seeking to look at his expression, but he was too close and his lips were brushing hers, his hand in her hair. Ever, ever so gentle. Her gorgeous Scott Tracy.

She fell into the moment.

But he eventually broke it off and she missed his touch as he stepped back, sitting in the chair beside her bed, that still slightly smug smile of his knowing exactly the effect he had on her.

“Virgil says he is going to order a second TEEPS machine for you. Until then you can use Gordon’s as needed. Knowing Virgil, he’ll go and pick it up himself just for peace of mind. No doubt the second machine will be here before we have to worry about the both of you needing it at the same time.”

She blinked. “Why does Gordon need a TEEPS machine?” The thought of the cost of one, much less two, froze her brain for a moment.

“Ah, you’ll have to speak to Gordon about that. You’d be the first one to kill me if I divulged my brother’s medical information to you.”

Bloody hell, yes, she would be following up on that immediately. She had to know this stuff. What if she had to treat him? What if he needed her help? An image of the younger Tracy’s laughing face danced across her mind. Why did he need a TEEPS machine? She was almost terrified to find out.

But then she had seen Virgil’s medical records. Why wouldn’t his brothers’ medical history be any different? Her heart clenched.

“Hey, Gordon’s fine. It’s managed. And yours will be, too.” His hand tightened briefly on her arm. “Now, you focus on you.” And his hand was touching her cheek again. So distracting.

He leant in again. Another kiss.

Oh.

Perhaps he was right. Perhaps her bad days could be a little less bad. Perhaps...and her mind lost its train of thought as his tongue begged entry.

Oh god.

-o-o-o-

FIN.


	2. Addendum to Bad Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A tiny little extra scene that popped up in my head that will likely lead elsewhere.

Virgil was leaning on the wall outside when Scott slipped out and quietly shut the door to Em’s room. “She’s asleep.”

“Good.” Virgil visibly swallowed, pushing himself off the wall and shifting where he stood. “It wasn’t good.”

Scott looked down at his feet. “Gordon scale?”

“At least eleven.”

“Shit.” It came out in a rush of breath. It hurt to think that… “Virg, give some of Gordon’s doctors a call. See what is available. What can be done.”

“Scott, there may not be anything. Em’s a doctor herself. She would know.”

Scott straightened, taking a step closer to his brother. “Then we make the impossible possible. That’s what we do isn’t it? Pull Brains into this. She-“ He cut himself off as words caught in his throat. “Virgil…” Quietly. “I think she may be my Kayo.” A pause. “What would you do for Kayo?”

Virgil’s eyes glistened in the overhead lighting.

“Anything.”

-o-o-o-


End file.
